


Stolen Moments

by K_Robe



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Coitus Interruptus, Dream Sex, F/F, F/M, Force Sex (Star Wars), Foreplay, Kissing, Multi, Mutual Masturbation, Semi-Public Sex, Sex, Sibling Incest, X-Wing(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-08-28 05:05:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8432887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/K_Robe/pseuds/K_Robe
Summary: A collection of stolen moments from some of the most colorful people in the galaxy.I'm taking pairing/story requests so shoot me a message or a comment about what you want to see.-“I know that…” she trails for a second, as if unsure if she wants to continue this train of thought. “...you’ve been staring at me these past few days.”Jessika’s throat catches her breath. She swallows, unable to say anything.“Throwing sidelong glances my way,” Rey continues, getting closer to her. “Looking at me when I’m in the infirmary. For a while, I’ve wondered why.” Jessika instinctively inches away when Rey gets too close, but she’s pinned between the S-foils and Rey’s quickly advancing body.“I guess I’ve figured it out.” Rey’s in front of her and so close. So close.





	1. Inhale. Exhale. (Anakin/Ahsoka)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, if anyone's got any pairings they want me to do so they'll feel totally depressed, just hit me up with a comment or a message or something. I'll cook something up real fast. I'm up from anything. Any time period, Legends or Canon or otherwise.

Anakin isn’t sure what’s happening.

He knows this place all too well. The war room of the Jedi Temple, a chamber whose very existence screamed irony. “War room.” Anakin scowled. The Clone Wars destroyed far too much, most of all the Jedi. What had they even been fighting for? His scowl only deepened.

He’s in his old Jedi robes, the dark ones - the ones made of shiny leather and comfortable fabric that coalesced into an image that made him feel more confident than he’d ever felt in his entire life. Wearing these robes, a scar on his face, and a lightsaber by his side - he felt like a real warrior. A Jedi Knight of legend. He remembered the old wives’ tales that he used to hear on Tatooine, all those years ago, when he was just a small boy. Tales of great warriors who would free enslaved peoples and knights who lived by an honorable code, performing grand feats of heroism and daring.

He sighs.

Life has a way of disappointing in the worst of ways.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the door open. A slight, almost waifish figure enters out of the darkness. Her orange skin and blue eyes are illuminated by the light.

“Ahsoka,” he regards her. She’s wearing what she always wore, that taut outfit that many in the Order had remarked felt a little inappropriate for a warrior-monk. Anakin had never minded.

“Master,” she says cooly, a smile playing at her lips.

There’s silence for a little while. Not awkward silence. Not the sort of silence that makes you nervous. It’s a content quietness, where no words need to be said to communicate what needs to be communicated.

Ahsoka’s the first to close the gap. 

She rushes in. She gets that from him.

Anakin follows and he takes her in his arms. Tears start forming at the corners of his eyes and he feels more vulnerable than he has in years. “I’m sorry,” he manages to sob out. “I’m so, so-”

Ahsoka’s lips interrupt him. His eyes widen at the all-too-familiar sensation. He hasn’t felt it in a long time. “Shh.” She pulls away slightly, looking at him with kindness and mirth. His heart tugs at the tresses of his soul. “You don’t have to apologize for anything,” she whispers as she takes his cheeks in her hands. “You are my master, my friend, my Skyguy.” She giggles before leaning in and kissing him again. This time, he kisses back.

Anakin’s hands start wandering and Ahsoka’s gasps and moans are the only thing he needs to hear to know that he should keep going. His hands flit between her breasts, squeezing and groping. He pushes aside the fabric and he takes her nipples in his mouth. Ahsoka moans. It’s loud. He wonders if anyone will catch them; he can already see Obi-Wan’s disapproving stare. 

Ahsoka brings him back down from his thoughts when she places her hand on his crotch. She rubs him for a moment before pulling down his trousers. She strokes him and it’s his turn to moan. He grips her on her hips, fingers strong against her abdomen.

She hikes up her skirt and pulls down her undergarment. Anakin looks at her briefly; Ahsoka looks back. She nods. He nods.

He’s inside her in a matter of moments. It’s wonderful. Anakin’s never felt like this before, not even with Padme. This is a feeling unlike anything else in the world. To be connected on such an intrinsic level as this. He could feel the Force moving between the two of them and heightening his senses in this act of passion. Ahsoka’s sweat, her cries, her body heat, and the immense pleasure. It’s all too much.

“Ahsoka-” he cried out.

Arms wrapped around his neck, Ahsoka whispers in his ear. “Anakin…”

He’s close, so close to finishing now.

“Anakin,” she repeats and Anakin could feel his heart swallow him whole. “I love-”

-

“-lord? My lord?”

Eyes blink. All he can see is red. Red.

“The repairs are complete, my lord. Would you like to… would you like me to leave you alone now?”

He can’t breathe for a moment. No. It’s not that he can’t. He refuses to. Or else he’ll hear it again. He’ll hear the sound that fills him up with so much hatred. His lungs feel like fire; they’ve only felt like that once before, when hatred had so consumed his soul. When he’d lost everything that had made him Anakin Skywalker.

 _Inhale_.

 _Exhale_.

Passion-filled rage bellows inside him. The machinist close to him suddenly crumples to the ground. A brief glance shows a misshapen, snapped neck.

He sits on the operating table for a moment, listening to the sound of his breath. He remembers who he is. He remembers what he has to do.

Darth Vader leaves the room and everything else besides.


	2. An Obsession With Survival (Jessika/Rey)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I know that…” she trails for a second, as if unsure if she wants to continue this train of thought. “...you’ve been staring at me these past few days.”
> 
> Jessika’s throat catches her breath. She swallows, unable to say anything.
> 
> “Throwing sidelong glances my way,” Rey continues, getting closer to her. “Looking at me when I’m in the infirmary. For a while, I’ve wondered why.” Jessika instinctively inches away when Rey gets too close, but she’s pinned between the S-foils and Rey’s quickly advancing body.
> 
> “I guess I’ve figured it out.” Rey’s in front of her and so close. So close.
> 
> Jessika closes the gap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taking requests for story ideas/pairings. Anything goes, people.

When Jessika first sees Rey, she can’t help but stare.

Her rough-looking brown hair is all done up in knots, very telling of a length far greater than what’s implied - as if she’d never once thought to cut it. She’s fit, but not in an obsessive way. She’s that way because of what Jessika sees in her eyes. Determination, longing, an impatient soul that’s learned how to deal with patience. An obsession with survival.

She’s walking out of the _Millennium Falcon_ , the legendary smugglers’ ship. Jessika knows from stories she’d been told that it’s Han Solo’s ship. She wonders where he is. She wonders if something happened. She wonders if that’s why the girl with the staff and the lightsaber holds such a sad expression on her face.

General Organa goes to her and hugs her. Jessika sees Rey hug back.

She thinks about what that feels like.

-

The ex-stormtrooper is in the infirmary. No amount of bacta is going to wake him up, she’d heard from the doctors. Jessika spies Rey going to visit him quite often. Sometimes, Jessika would find an excuse to swing by that wing of D’Qar’s Resistance base. Just to see Rey. Just to see her kneeling in front of his comatose body. She knows Rey can use the Force. More than once, she’s almost caught Jessika spying on her. On those occasions, Jessika is quick to turn around and pretend that she’s carrying supplies or going to get checked up or looking for Poe. On those occasions, her cheeks flush just a bit and her feet move a little faster.

She wonders if she has feelings for him.

-

Jessika is underneath her X-wing, trying to get her mind off of that enigmatic junker girl from Jakku. It’s a hot day and she’s dressed in bright orange cargo pants and a white tank top. She’s wearing goggles in case any oil gets in her face and - some just did. Great.

She slips out from underneath the starfighter, a more than miffed expression apparent on her face. Taking her goggles off, she sighs. There’s a fire in her stomach. An unquenchable thirst for something she can never taste. For that wonderful, beautiful girl who could turn out to be the secret weapon the New Republic needs to destroy the First Order. But that’s all conjecture. And all of it could just be nerves and hormones and a girlish crush that a Resistance pilot should be mature enough to handle. She sits there, back against the nose of her fighter, lightly banging the back of her head against its metal chassis.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

She hears footsteps. It’s probably Poe, coming to tell her that she should be done with X-wing checkup duty by now. She doesn’t want to have to deal with that right now.

Jessika turns her head towards the noise, ready to tell Poe off.

Only it’s not Poe.

It’s Rey.

Mouth open, Jessika freezes. She must look pretty stupid. Rey has a nervous expression on her face; it’s clear she wasn’t expecting Jessika to sit there, stupefied at her. But Jessika can’t help it. Looking at her up close, it’s like staring into the most beautiful garden world in the galaxy. The fields of Naboo and the glimmering lights of Coruscant have nothing on the sight in front of her right now.

“Hello,” Rey says.

It takes a moment before Jessika registers that she’s being spoken to. “H-hello,” she says back, nervousness quick to take hold of her. Shaking her head, Jessika stands and props herself against her X-wing. “Hi. You’re Rey, right? What, uh, what are you doing here? What bring you, you know, out here?”

Rey gives a sheepish smile. “I’m looking for BB-8. I was just doing some repairs on him; I guess he got scared and wandered off. He doesn’t like it when I play with his secondary motivators. Or his primary ones for that matter.” She purses her lips. “I know you. You’re… Jessika Pava. You flew on the mission to destroy Starkiller Base.”

For a second, it astonishes Jessika that this beautiful girl has said her name out loud. And she hadn’t even introduced herself yet. “That’s right,” she replies, trying to stay calm.

“I know that Black Squadron lost a lot of men that day.”

The memory of fallen friends hits Jessika hard and she turns slightly, angling her gaze away from Rey. “Yes. They were all friends.”

“I’m sorry about that. If I hadn’t been kidnapped…”

Jessika turns back. It’s her turn to smile. “None of that was your fault. Actually, from what I hear, if you hadn’t been kidnapped, things wouldn’t have turned out the way they did. You were part of the team that helped us take out the main generator.”

Rey tries not to show it, but she smiles. But the smile disappears after a fashion. “That was Han Solo that did that,” she says quietly.

“Oh… right.” There’s an awkward silence, one that Jessika screams internally to find a way to claw out of. “W-well, you were certainly a big help. There’s no way you couldn’t have been. I mean, you can use the Force.”

Rey does smile at that. “Many people are expecting a lot out of me. I only hope that I’ll live up to those expectations.”

“Oh, definitely,” Jessika is quick to say, eager to move this conversation towards a more palatable subject. “You will definitely live up to those expectations.”

At that, Rey laughs and Jessika feels a warmth start spreading through her chest, going to her shoulders. She drops the hydrospanner she’s been playing with and it almost lands at her foot. She stumbles for a second before recovering and pretending that nothing had happened. All the hairs on her body are standing up and she feels like there’s a million eyes on her. But the only ones that matter - are right in front of her.

Rey stands there, lips once again pursed. It’s a good look on her, Jessika notes in her mind. Then again, anything is a good look on her.

“I know that…” she trails for a second, as if unsure if she wants to continue this train of thought. “...you’ve been staring at me these past few days.”

Jessika’s throat catches her breath. She swallows, unable to say anything.

“Throwing sidelong glances my way,” Rey continues, getting closer to her. “Looking at me when I’m in the infirmary. For a while, I’ve wondered why.” Jessika instinctively inches away when Rey gets too close, but she’s pinned between the S-foils and Rey’s quickly advancing body.

“I guess I’ve figured it out.” Rey’s in front of her and so close. So _close_.

Jessika closes the gap.

Her lips latch onto Rey’s. Rey’s eyes widen for a second before melting into the kiss, one of her hands lazily catching Jessika’s hip while the other rests on the S-foil. For her part, Jessika feels weak. But that weakness is what makes her hold onto Rey’s strong - surprisingly strong - shoulders. Rey’s lips taste like honey and dew and all of the good things in the world.

Jessika pulls away after an eternity of connection.

“Wow, that was…” It’s Jessika’s turn to purse her lips. “I’m sorry if that was too much. I-”

Rey puts a finger on her lips. Jessika has to resist the urge to slip the digit into her mouth. “Shh,” she shushes her. “I wouldn’t worry about it,” voice huskier than Jessika expected. That’s enough to arouse her instantly and the fire that had been spreading through her body finally gets between her thighs.

Jessika wraps her arms around Rey, pressing their lips together again. This kiss is more passionate, more primal. Rey’s pushing against her. Jessika’s pushing back. It’s a play for control, for wanton desires, and the discovery of unconscious tensions. It’s like the best massage Jessika’s ever received. She hopes Rey feels that way, too.

Rey’s hands slip up her shirt and squeezes her breasts, which hang free and unrestricted. Oh, my. She’s a quick one, isn’t she? Jessika smiles into their kiss. There is no way she’s saying no to any of this.

The X-wing pilot is quick to counterattack, fingers slipping into the junker’s robes and tweaking her nipples. Rey gasps and moans, breaking away to make silent loving sounds. Jessika’s pretty proud that she got that to happen. Rey bites her lip, gazing at Jessika, hands going down this time and squeezing her sizeable buttocks through her flight pants. It’s Jessika’s turn to gasp and moan. Rey’s rough, but in a good way. Her smile only grows wider.

But then Rey stops and Jessika feels robbed. 

She wants to ask why, demand why the pleasure has disappeared.

Rey puts a finger on her lips once more. Soon enough, Jessika can hear the footsteps.

Poe rounds the corner. To the unseeing eye, it seems like Jessika Pava and Rey are just having a friendly conversation. Her commanding officer approaches her.

“Rey,” he says with a dashing smile, nodding to the former scavenger. She nods back, a polite smile playing at her lips. Even she isn’t immune to Poe Dameron’s immutable charms. He turns to Jessika. “Jessika.”

“Sir.”

“How are repairs going?”

“They’re complete, commander.”

“Good.” He nods, looking over the T-70 X-wing with a faint smile. “Let’s hope she flies as well as she did when we took out Starkiller Base, eh?”

Jessika smiles at that. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Rey smiling as well. “Yes, sir.”

“Come on,” he urges, putting his arm around her shoulders. “The other pilots are having a drink. Join us. Captain’s orders.”

“You’re not a captain, sir,” Jessika chides him, laughing.

“It’s an expression, Pava,” he jokes back. He glances back at Rey as the two pilots leave. “I’ll see you later, Rey?”

Jessika glances back at Rey. The junker isn’t looking at Poe. The two women share a glance. “Yes,” Rey says, smiling. “I’ll see you later.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading! I'm still taking requests over here, so don't be afraid to shoot me a message or a comment telling me what pairings or stories you'd like to see! Canon, Legends, anything. It's all up for grabs here at Stolen Moments.


	3. Mutual Tragedy (Luke/Leia)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you alright?”
> 
> Luke questions the irony of her asking him that question. But he shrugs it off, nodding towards her. “Yes. Don’t worry about it. It’s been a long few days.”
> 
> Leia pauses for a moment, then an almost mischievous smile erupts on her face.
> 
> “Come on,” she says as she grips him by the arm. “Let me show you something.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for continuing to read my stuff guys. I really do appreciate it. And don't forget, if anyone wants to see any pairing at all - from Canon or Legends or otherwise - tell me so and I'll see what I can whip up.

When Luke gets back from blowing up the Death Star, he receives a hero’s welcome. He doesn’t know if he deserves it or whether it was really _him_ that even accomplished that amazing feat to begin with, but it certainly feels good to be treated like one. His chest swells with pride when he walks down the Grand Audience Chamber next to Han and Chewie. He laughs when he sees R2 safe and sound, and Threepio standing as a goofily golden contrast to the military officers around him. But when he sees Princess Leia, that’s when he grins.

She’s beautiful. She’s charming. She’s putting a medal around his neck.

The expression on her face when her fingers lightly brush against his collarbone is priceless. In that moment, Luke doesn’t want to be anywhere else in the whole galaxy.

-

Afterward, the crowd disperses and the Rebel Alliance continues chugging on. The Empire’s super-weapon has been readily foiled but the war goes on, and it will continue to go on until they can find a way to dethrone the Emperor for good. That will take a while, Luke decides, and so it wouldn’t be remiss to spend a few hours or even a few days taking a break from all this. It’s hard to believe that, not too long ago, he was complaining to his Uncle Owen about not being able to go to the Imperial Academy. The irony of that statement was certainly clear in his head, but thinking about Tatooine dredged up bad memories. Of dead Jawas and a homestead on fire. Of his Aunt and Uncle’s remains.

Luke sits quietly by himself on the steps leading up to the main platform.

He’s taken off his yellow jacket and laid it next to him, leaving him in dusty brown pants and a dark shirt. His fingers idly thumb at the smooth cylindrical shape of his father’s lightsaber. His thumb brushes against the activation lever and, at the spur of the moment, presses it. With a strong _snap-hiss_ , the blue blade springs forth. The hum constant hum is loud but the sound comforts him all the same. This was - is - the weapon of a Jedi Knight. Not as clumsy or random as a blaster. Luke smiles. His father used this weapon during the Clone Wars to fight against the Separatists. Now, he’s using it to fight against the Empire.

Luke supposes that times never really change.

“Luke?”

He shuts off the lightsaber and he turns towards the voice. It’s Leia, of course, still wearing the gorgeous gown she’d worn during the medal ceremony but her hair is undone and, for the first time, Luke can see just how long it is. He stands up. “Princess,” he says. “What brings you back here?”

“I saw you sitting there and, well, I suppose you looked like you needed some company.” She says it with such matter-of-fact kindness that it’s almost hard to believe this is the same woman whose actions on the Death Star must have saved their lives at least once or twice. _Almost_ \- because he could still see the straightforwardness and unhindered compassion that he saw for the first time when he opened the door to her prison cell and she made a joke about stormtrooper height requirements.

Luke turns as if to look at the ground, somewhat sheepishly, but his eyes remain fixed on the girl in front of him. “That’s kind of you, princess. I’m perfectly fine.”

“Perfectly fine?” she asks, before sitting down onto the steps herself. She gestures him to return to his sitting position, which he does after a moment of quiet deliberation. “You certainly looked a little disturbed when you were staring into your lightsaber earlier.”

Luke scratches the back of his head. “I was just remembering some things. You know, where I’ve been and where I am. It’s just tough to believe that I am where I am now.” He’s silent for a second, unsure of whether or not he should tell Leia anything about Owen and Beru. He opens his mouth but shuts it. She doesn’t need to hear his grief, he realizes, especially since she’s been trying her hardest to cope with the destruction of her entire planet. Suddenly, the issue of his aunt and uncle’s deaths felt small in comparison to the obliteration of Alderaan.

“What is it?” she asks.

He shifts. “It’s nothing, princess.”

“You don’t have to call me that, you know,” she chides, ribbing him lightly in the chest. He pretends to be hurt by her elbow, and it’s enough to make Leia let out a small giggle.

“Alright, _Leia_. I suppose I’m just not used to dealing with royalty.”

She rolls her eyes. “I’ve never felt too comfortable with that part of my life. I always considered myself a member of the Senate first, along with being a military commander for the Rebel Alliance.” She chuckles, as if remembering a far-off memory. “It’s funny,” she whispers. “I never wanted any of that. I never wanted to be royalty. I was a fighter. When I was supposed to be in language study, I skipped class to attend martial training. When I was a congressional aide for my father, I was aiding with smuggling relief shipments to Lothal with a couple of Jedi. When I was trapped on Kashyyyk two years ago at the whims of a crazed Imperial commander, my father decided to send another Jedi to ‘rescue’ me. I was doing fine, by the way.”

Luke crinkles his nose. “There are other Jedi in the Rebellion?” There were Jedi Knights active as recently as a few years prior? His mind races to a number of possibilities in quick succession. Why was he so unique if there were others? Why depend on Ben as her “only hope?” Could they teach Luke how to be a real Jedi?

But the princess’ roughshod expression eliminates those thoughts from his mind. “No,” she says. “There aren’t any other Jedi with the Rebel Alliance anymore.” Luke decides not to press the issue. The whole situation gave off a strange rumbling in the Force and a shiver down Luke’s spine tells him everything he needs to know about what probably happened to those Jedi. He grits his teeth. The Empire was going to pay for destroying the Jedi. For destroying his life. For destroying Leia’s homeworld.

Leia looks to him with the same crinkled-nose expression that Luke beheld just second ago. Funnily, Luke thinks she looks an awful lot like him in that moment. Maybe they’re more similar than he thinks. The look on her face says everything - she must have sensed the sudden wave of anger coming off of him somehow. Maybe his eyes betrayed him.

She places a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Are you alright?”

Luke questions the irony of _her_ asking _him_ that question. But he shrugs it off, nodding towards her. “Yes. Don’t worry about it. It’s been a _long_ few days.”

Leia pauses for a moment, then an almost mischievous smile erupts on her face.

“Come on,” she says as she grips him by the arm. “Let me show you something.”

-

The watchtowers overlooking the Rebel Alliance’s base on Yavin stretch just high enough to peak past the excessive treeline. There was hardly enough room for one person let alone two, but Leia’s small frame allows both of them to squeeze into place. Luke wants to feel uncomfortable, but there isn’t a hormone in his body that isn’t enjoying the warmth of Leia pressed up against him. Her small hands gingerly grip the railing as she leans out, the wind catching her hair and causing to billow in the free air.

Luke thinks she’s never looked more beautiful.

“When Chancellor Palpatine became Emperor Palpatine, a lot of the Republic’s history was lost,” Leia exposits. “But sometimes cracks fall through. When we scouted this planet, I couldn’t resist researching these ancient ruins and seeing what I could find. Something about them feels wrong.”

Luke feels it, too. The Force is strong in this place. He’s not sure how he can measure that quite yet but an aching feeling in the pit of his stomach places him on high alert anytime he gets too close to one of the millennia-old ziggurats that litter the forests’ surface. “I get that feeling, too,” he adds.

“I had to make sure I wasn’t going crazy,” she continued. “Apparently, these temples were built by an ancient race called the Massassi. I wasn’t able to find out much about them other than the fact that they were affiliated with the Sith during the time of the Old Republic, before the Ruusan Reformation a thousand years ago. The most important thing I discovered, though, was that these temples apparently house the crypts of ancient Sith Lords.”

Luke’s only halfway paying attention to much of what Leia’s saying, distracted more by the way that her moves lips and how they connect back against each other as each syllable is spoken. But when she mentions that these Massassi Temples hold a bunch of dead Sith, the chill in his spine returns. “Wait, hold on,” he says, raising his hands in an almost defensive stance. “Are you telling me that there are a whole bunch of evil Dark Jedi here?”

“Well, their dead bodies are here.”

Luke doesn’t know much about the Force yet, but from what Ben had told him, he knows that the Force is an energy field that connects everything. And if there are a bunch of dead Sith here… well, that certainly explains why he feels so antsy all the time. Maybe even why he’s been experiencing so many negative emotions.

“I’m going to question the wisdom of the Rebellion’s decision to place their base on top of the graves of its ancient enemies,” he says dryly.

At that Leia laughs. “Then at least we’re in agreement.” She looks out, eyes a bit distant. “We’re going to have to leave the base soon. The Imperials could be here any day now.” She sighs. “It seems like I’m flitting from one fight to another. It never ends, and more and more people keep dying.”

Luke places a hand on her shoulder. “It’ll be fine,” he says. “The Force is on our side.”

“We say as we stand on a planet built by the Sith.” Leia’s joking, but it’s clear at this point that she’s doing it to distract herself from having to fully process the realities of their situation. Maybe that’s what she needs. Luke’s not going to get in the way.

Leia tilts her head, resting it on Luke’s shoulder. For a moment, the farm boy freezes up but his shoulders relax after a fashion. It’s fascinating how quickly the pair had grown close. He supposes that being in as many dangerous situations in as short a span of time as they had been can forge bonds like Luke had never seen. He bites his lip. He wishes that Biggs could have made it out. He deserves to see the fruits of his labor. Deserved.

Luke tilts his head up against the top of Leia’s, his cheek brushing on her hair.

“It’ll be fine,” he repeats.

“I hope so,” she whispers back.

It takes a full minute of silence and watching an X-wing patrol fly by in the distance, but Leia finally turns her head and - on the tips of her toes - kisses Luke. The mixed emotions of shock, surprise, hope, and gladness erupt on Luke’s face. He leans back into the kiss, his hands holding onto her by her hips. Her hands caress his cheeks as their kiss deepens, her delicate fingers cooling up Luke’s warm cheeks.

Leia pulls away, resting her hands on his shirt. She’s developed a smirk.

Luke begins, “That was-”

“-cathartic?”

“I was going to say ‘late,’ but that certainly works, too.” Luke has a goofy grin on his face and that hormonal teenager from Tatooine comes back in full force. This isn’t the bush pilot that destroyed an Imperial superweapon and is on his way to become a Jedi Knight. It’s the kid from the insignificant desert planet with a chip on his shoulder and ignores curfew if he wants to hang out with his friends late at night.

Luke takes Leia’s face in his hands and presses his lips against hers tenderly. She leans against the railing as he continues his forward assault, hands wandering down her neck to her collarbone. As his fingers touch the tops of her cleavage, she begins to shiver. Luke’s hand pulls away her neckline and reveals one pale breast with a pink-tipped nipple. He tweaks it between his thumb and forefinger, and she lets out a gasp - turning their kisses into a full open-mouthed exercise.

Her hands begin to wander down his chest until they reach his pants. She unbuttons them, slipping her hands into his trousers and grabbing hold of his hot member-

_BEEP BEEP!_

Luke’s comlink goes off. 

He glances at it. She glances at it. He shakes his head. She purses her lips.

She nods. He sighs.

Luke activates the comlink. “Yeah?” he asks.

“Luke, buddy, have you seen where that no-good princess has gone?” Han’s voice is loud and clear, and Leia can’t help but roll her eyes when she hears it. Despite himself, Luke can’t help but crack a bit of a smile.

“Yeah, Han, she’s right here.”

“Hello, Han,” Leia says drolly.

“Well, glad to see you’re real excited, highness!” Han huffs and Leia thinks she can hear Chewbacca roaring in the background. “Listen. Someone named Mon Mothma told an Alliance official who told a soldier who told me to tell you that ‘she’ - who I’m guessing is Mon Mothma - wants to see you. Something about a guy named Kyle Katarn.”

Leia sighs. Luke mouths, “Who’s that?” Leia shakes her head and rolls her eyes again; the meaning is obvious: “Don’t worry about it.”

“Alright, Han,” she finally says. “I’ll be right there.”

“Take your time, senator,” Han says and Luke can hear the smirk from over the radio. “This only changed hands five or six times trying to get to you, so it can’t be _that_ urgent.”

“ _Alright_ , Han,” she says, teeth scraping together.

“Always a pleasure, Leia!” And Han cuts off the transmission.

“Isn’t he just infuriating?” Leia asks as she recomposes herself and Luke buttons up his pants.

“He _did_ save my butt over the Death Star,” he notes.

“As if that’s enough to save his hide from me when I get down there.”

Luke begins to laugh but Leia interrupts it with a kiss. She pushes against him this time, as if she wants to extend this for as long as possible. When she pulls away, Luke kisses again. She protests for a moment, but relents when she feels his strong hands on her shoulders.

When they part, she begins, “Luke-”

“For luck,” he interrupts. “The kiss was for luck.”

Whatever Leia was going to say, it’s replaced by a growing smile - and Luke couldn’t have been happier he’d done that.

“You’re a charmer, Luke Skywalker,” she says as she begins to descend the ladder down to the ground level.

“Well, I’m here to serve, princess.” Luke starts down the ladder as well, hopeful that this new life will work out for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading again, guys! Remember, send me your requests! I hunger for them. I eat them like pizza.

**Author's Note:**

> Like I said, if anyone's got any stories or pairings they'd like to see in this format, just hit me up. I'm always good for a quick little short story/drabble kind of thing.
> 
> Thanks for reading my story, by the way. I really appreciate it.


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